The Next Chapter
by samo810
Summary: A post revival continuation... Starting with a super quick chapter. Should I continue?
1. Chapter 1

" _Mom…"_

" _Yea?"_

" _I'm pregnant."_

She stared at me. She stared at me for what felt like forever; mouth agape, understandable shock in her eyes, maybe a hint of disappointment, or even hope that this was some kind of morbid joke. Finally I couldn't take it anymore.

"Mom?"

She finally seemed to come back into her own body, shaking her head a little, probably in disbelief. _I'm in disbelief_. She swallowed hard before starting to repeat what I had told her, "You're…"

It was as if she couldn't bring herself to finish the sentence, she couldn't say it.

"Yea."

She exhaled an unsteady breath, letting it sink in I suppose. _I don't think that I've really even let it sink in yet._ I could hear her fighting back tears as she asked, "And you're…"

 _Sure_. She was going to ask if I was sure. My eyes burned as my vision became bleary, obscuring my examination of the pattern on my pants. _Oh I'm sure_. I nodded and again softly responded, "Yea."

She softly uttered, "Right…" I saw her drop her head back out of the corner of my eye, probably still trying to fend off tears from rolling down her cheeks, a battle I myself was only seconds away from losing. Her breathing had returned to a regular, if not rapid and audible pace, and the rate was only increasing. She was panicking. _Of course she was panicking_.

"Of course you're sure. _You_ of all people would be sure before… That's… Wow, kid…" She took a swig from the glass of champagne that was still in her hand, "So… Okay… Uh…" She ran her hand across her forehead. "How?"

 _Is she serious?_ "Um…"

She quickly shook her head, "I don't mean _how_ , I mean… You are sitting here so clearly I know _how_ , but… You gotta give me a little something more here. You don't just drop a 'Mommy I'm pregnant' on a girl and leave it at that. If you think you can January Jones your own mother you're…"

I couldn't help it. I wanted to smile or to laugh, or at least acknowledge the January Jones comment, but the little boy with his finger in the dam was nowhere to be found and the reservoir of tears that had welled up over the last couple of minutes came pouring out. I couldn't stop it. I was practically sobbing.

"Oh, Honey. I'm…" Her arm wrapped around me and she kissed the top of my head, "I'm sorry, I just…"

Apparently even in the wake of life altering news, her daughter in a soggy mess of tears was enough to pull my mother out of her own panic. I couldn't tell you how long she let me cry for, I'm sure we cried _together_ for at least a minute or two, but she held me and stroked my hair like when I was a little girl.

Finally, with her chin still resting on my head she spoke again, "It's not Pablo's is it?"

This time I did laugh. We both laughed. It felt good to laugh.

* * *

** I do not own any characters or content related to Gilmore Girls or any other entities mentioned. **


	2. Chapter 2

The sun continued to rise, as it must, and we started to see lights turning on around the square as people got ready to start the day. Realizing what a mess I must look I started to try to pull myself together; wiping my face, straitening my sweater, becoming more aware of my surroundings. _The wedding… Oh no._

That got me started all over again. The tears came. Then panic from Mom again, startled by my sudden break down, or re-breakdown as it were, "What? What is it?"

I tried to say something, ' _Sorry'_ probably, but it just came out as a sob.

She gave me a ' _What the hell'_ look, or at least that's what I interpreted it to be through the blur of tears that just wouldn't seem to end, so I tried again, this time gesturing around the square to everything that was set up for what was supposed to be the best day of her life. I resigned to hiding my face in my hands.

She must have gotten the idea because the panic stopped and the concern set it, " _Oh, Hun.._."

I looked up at to see her shaking her head, but not in the disbelieving way she had before, this time with what I could only describe as sympathy… _or maybe pity._ She stood and pulled me up by my hand, wrapping her arm over my shoulders, "Come on… If people see you crying like this out here they're going to think I panicked and left Luke again."

We walked home mostly in silence, amazingly uninterrupted by the town which must have all been awake by now. We walked into the kitchen and I sat down at the table. I vaguely heard Mom reach into the cabinet for two mugs, then pause and put one down, only to pick it up again.

"What's the rule here?"

" _Huh_?"

"Coffee, or caffeine, or whatever. Clearly I didn't know it, or follow it when I was pregnant with you, so what's the rule?"

"I…" I looked up at her a little lost. I know there is _some_ rule about it, that I shouldn't have it, or not have too much of it, but I haven't seen a doctor yet or been told what's right or wrong, or… "I don't know."

"Right." She stood for moment longer holding the two mugs, before decidedly turning to place them back on the shelf, then moving to a lower cabinet, reaching behind stacks of plates, and under an upturned soup taurine for a hidden box of Mallomars, which she opened and placed on the table in front of me before taking the chair across the table.

"So…"

"So…"

"So are you going to tell me who…"

I tried to give her a look that told her she already knew.

"It's…"

I nodded. It had to be. _It's Logan's baby_. She let out a heavy exhale and ran her hand through her hair, making it clear that she understood. What wasn't clear was how she felt about the matter.

"And does he…"

I shook my head quickly, mindlessly playing with the corner of the placemat.

"Rory…"

"Mom, I'm not…"

"Don't you…"

"I don't …"

"Are we ever going to finish a sentence here?"

"I just can't right now."

"But…"

"He's getting married!" _That came out much louder than I intended it to_. She knew he was getting married; she didn't need me to shout it.

"I know, Hun, but…"

The tears were coming again, I could feel them rising, but I didn't want to cry anymore. I couldn't do this right now. "And _you're_ getting married."

A slight smile spread across her face, "I _am_ married."

I couldn't help but return said smile, not when she looked that happy. "But _today_ is your wedding day."

"Technically yesterday was…"

"Today should still be about you. It's the real wedding." I turned toward my once and present room, hoping that getting a move on would help quell this conversation for now.

 _No luck._ I heard her follow me into my room; when I turned to face her she took my hands and we sat on the edge of the bed, "Last night was the _real_ wedding. This… today is for everybody else. Right now, I'm worried about you."

Once again I found myself fighting back tears. I felt my chin quiver as I lied, "I'm… fine."

She didn't buy it. " _Rory_ …"

She was making me think about it… about _all of it_. I did not want to think about it. When I thought about it, it all seemed too… _Pathetic? Unfortunate?_ Nearly 33 years old, broke, jobless, living at home, single, and pregnant. Pregnant by my ex-boyfriend whose marriage proposal I turned down almost a decade ago, who is now engaged to someone else. _It's all too much._ I collapsed back on my bed, feet still hanging off the edge.

"This isn't… It's not how I imagined my life."

Mom chuckled as she lay back next to me, "It never is, Kid."

We just laid there for a few minutes.

Finally, I did the only thing I knew to do.

"What do I do, Mom?"

She grabbed my hand and took a deep breath, still staring at the ceiling, "First, you need to make a doctor's appointment." _Right, probably a good idea._ "Then you're going to take a long hot shower, and we're going to get ready for this wedding. And when you're ready… we'll talk."

I turned my head to look at her, and she looked back at me, our eyes reflecting pools of deep blue. "I love you, Mom."

"Love you too, Kid."

* * *

** I do not own any characters or content related to Gilmore Girls or any other entities mentioned. **


	3. Chapter 3

I ran my hands through my hair as rinsed it under the steaming water, trying my best to follow Mom's instructions to relax. I had made an appointment online to see a doctor in Hartford on Tuesday. Mom knew, and she didn't freak out nearly as bad as I had expected her to. I wouldn't say that I was Frankie Goes to Hollywood, but to be honest, this _was_ as relaxed as I had been since I found out.

As I washed my face I thought back to that day last week. I was sitting at my desk at the Gazette, not feeling particularly great. Initially I had chalked it up to the knot that had gradually formed in the pit of my stomach over the last few months as a result of the whole no job, no money, no love life, no home debacle. When I found myself heaving in the trash can ten minutes later I assumed I had caught some stomach bug. I walked over to Doosey's intending to get something to settle my stomach, but the only thing that looked remotely appetizing was an apple. _Go figure_. I remember vividly flashing back to the conversation I had had with my mom the day she thought she might be pregnant, and felt like I was going to throw up all over again. For the second time in my life, I stole from Doosey's market as I booked it out of the store, apple in hand, back down the street to my car. After a mild panic attack and some fervent frustration in wishing I was more responsible about tracking my cycle, I drove. First I drove to a pharmacy at the far end of Woodbridge, and then kept driving to Hartford, to my grandparents' house. Grandma had put the sale on hold when I told her I wanted to work in the study, and I had never been happier to know that no one was expected to show up there. I sat on the floor of the marble tiled bathroom for what felt like hours, waiting for the three minute timer on my phone to ring. I turned over the two tests I taken, each of them delivering the answer I had already guessed. A half an hour later I peed on two more sticks to be sure, and another three agonizingly long minutes later, it was confirmed. I had spent the rest of the day trying to ignore the mounting panic in the back of my brain, and the nausea in the pit of my stomach, by writing. I hadn't been successful with either.

As I shaved my legs I thought about the visit I had had with my dad a few days ago. I thought about what he said, about how it being just Mom and me was the way it was always supposed to be; about the both of us being forces to be reckoned with. I knew he was right about one of those things. Mom and me, we were always supposed to be us. I was writing a book about it after all. And Mom was definitely a force to be reckoned with, but _me_? I still had my doubts. I wondered if I were as strong as her; if I could raise a baby on my own. _I might have to._

When I got out of the shower I found Mom upstairs in her bathroom, rolling her freshly dried hair into curlers, The Bangles blaring from the stereo in the bedroom. Luke was getting ready above the diner for this evening's festivities, so we had the house to ourselves. I just watched her for a minute as she brushed out the last couple of sections and secured them in the rolls. She really was everything I wanted to be. _I just hope I can come close._

I turned down the music ever so slightly, but it was enough to get her attention.

"Hey…"

"So, do I still qualify as Maid of Honor even if I'm knocked up?"

She smiled when she realized I was making a joke, "Feeling better?"

"A little."

"Good…" She picked up her toothbrush, "And because the dress fits you, I say yes."

She winked at me as I rolled my eyes. I dried my own hair as she brushed her teeth and applied her makeup. She touched up her favorite nail polish as I dusted my cheeks with light powder, and I could see her watching me in the mirror from the bed as I brushed mascara through my eyelashes.

"Rory…" I looked at her through the mirror. She paused for a moment, steadying herself to ask a heavy question. _Oh boy._ "You aren't really going to keep this from him, are you?"

 _She couldn't have asked me before I put on mascara?_ I actually have no idea what I'm going to do.

"I… We… We're not together. He's…" I couldn't say ' _getting married'_ again. Not right now. I didn't want to think about it. _Change the subject_. "Besides, look at us."

" _Us_? What about us?"

"You and me…" I walked towards her and sat next to her on the bed. "You raised me alone, without Dad, and I turned out fine… present circumstance notwithstanding."

I thought I would at least get a chuckle out of her for that one, but when I looked back at her, there was nothing resembling a smile on her face. In fact, she was almost in tears.

"Rory…" She looked around the room, a pained expression on her face, clearly trying to collect her thoughts. "Your dad and I… It's not the same. And, for the record, you turned out better than fine, but it was no picnic getting here. You _have_ to remember how hard it was."

"I do. I _know_ , but…"

"And we were kids, me and your dad, literally kids. He didn't know what he wanted, and we were stubborn and selfish. Luckily my version of stubborn and selfish turned out alright for us, but… You guys aren't kids. You could…"

"What? Call him up and tell him, ' _Hey, just thought you'd like to know that our last little Life and Death Brigade outing resulted in a life_.' I don't think so."

"Well…" She was confused. _Understandable_. "No, that's not really what I meant, but… Life and Death Brigade?"

"It doesn't matter… What matters is that he and I are not a couple. We haven't been a couple in practically a decade. We…"

"Then what are you?"

" _Now_? Now we're… nothing."

"Then what _were_ you?"

"We were…"

"Vegas?"

"Vegas."

"Which means?"

Here we go… I looked at the clock. We had a little less than an hour before Sookie, Lane, and Grandma were supposed to be here to help get Mom dressed and take some photos. It was now or never.

"I told you… We were together when we were together, and not when we weren't. It started pretty soon after I started spending time in London regularly. We ran into each other at a work thing one night and kind of awkwardly caught up with each other."

" _Caught up with each other?"_ She raised her eyebrows suggestively.

I half shook my head, and half ignored her. _Not that she needs to know this, but that part of our relationship has never been awkward._ "The next time we decided to bump into each other on purpose and have a drink.

" _Have a drink?"_ Again with the eyebrows.

This time I ignored her entirely, " _A_ drink turned into several drinks…" She made a victorious ' _a-ha'_ movement, as if she needed to pin point the exact moment when we started consummated our arrangement. Again, I ignored it. "…which turned into me staying with him whenever I was in London. I was vaguely aware of Odette, and he knew I was dating…" _I was drawing a blank._

"Paul."

"What?"

"Paul?"

"Oh, right. Yea… He knew about Paul. But I was always on the go and hardly ever saw him, and Odette was in Paris, and we…" I could see that Mom was trying really hard to understand, and I appreciated that. _I want her to understand_. "We just kind of get each other. We always have. We would talk, you know about ideas for work, or when things were bothering us, but…" Her eyebrows were raised. "What?"

"When you were together?"

"Huh?"

"You would talk when you were _together_ … You know, in Vegas?"

"Yea… I mean, we'd call sometimes, or email, when we weren't…" It was Vegas… _Right_? "Mostly, it was Vegas."

"Right… Vegas." I caught a major hint of disbelief on her face.

"What?"

"Nothing!" She put her hands up defensively, but her face hadn't changed. Instead she tried to steer the subject, "So if it was ' _Vegas'_ how am I ending up with a grandchild." She stopped to shudder a little at the sound of that word. "I'm too young to be a grandma, by the way."

"Well, whose fault is that?"

She glared at me knowing I was right, "Just get on with it… But no gory details please!"

I rolled my eyes again, as if I would ever share gory details about my sex life, but cautiously proceeded, "Like I said, Paul was…" _I honestly can't remember where he lives._ "… _wherever_ Paul was, and Odette was in Paris… until she wasn't in Paris."

"She came to London?"

I nodded. "She moved in with him, and things got…" _Complicated doesn't seem to be an appropriate enough word._ "Anyway, then you and I had just had that big fight at the cemetery."

" _Ugh_. I recall."

"And instinctively…"

"You called Vegas."

I sighed at what may have just stuck as a new nickname, but continued, "Several times. But every time I called him I realized I shouldn't be, because we were Vegas, not…" _In a relationship? Having an affair? We_ were _having an affair. .God. This is a love child. I am Pearl Lowe, this is… What's that kid's name?_

"Uh… Rory?"

I realized I had been lost in my own thought, _my own awful, terrible thoughts_ , but I wasn't ready to share that with the class yet. I struggled to find my footing in the story again.

"We were fighting, and…"

"And Vegas was booked."

I shot daggers at her with my eyes, before remembering where I had left off, "And finally he called me to find out what was wrong because I was being such a basket case, but then he had to take the phone outside because…" _Because the woman he's engaged to came home, to her house, where her fiancé and I had carried on an extensive affair..._ "And anyway, I ended it. Not well, but I ended it."

She was rapt when I paused for a breath, "Um… still failing to see where the new development occurs..."

"I'm getting to it… So a few days later I notice all these weird things going on, signs and stuff, and I think I'm losing it, but then, Finn, and Colin, and Robert…"

"Grimaldi?"

I nodded, chuckling a little at her recognition, "They show up in the middle of town one night, gorilla masks and all, and there's Logan, come to rescue me from my pathetic life."

"Now the Life and Death Bridgade thing makes sense… I get it. Funny… sort of."

Shaking my head I continued, "We watched Kirk's film, and golfed on the roof, and…"

"That was _you_? You know Taylor is still finding golf balls in the gutters around town. He's pissed."

"They _paid_ for them." It was Mom's turn to roll her eyes. "And then Colin bought a Tango club, and a Bed and Breakfast in New Hampshire, and…"

"He _bought_ the Bed and Breakfast?"

"And the club, which now exclusively plays Rosemary Clooney." Mom gave an approving nod this time. "And Logan…" _Logan._ "Logan offered me his family's house to wright at, and we danced, rather poorly, and…"

Mom cringed, "No details please."

"And we spent one last, perfect night together… except…"

"Except now you're my Maid of Dishonor."

I chose to ignore that last interjection. "Except now we are supposed to _really_ be over. We said a real goodbye, we're done."

I got lost in my own thoughts for a minute, reliving those last few moments we spent… his mental picture of me, that kiss…

"Hun… Can I ask a question?" I was drawn back to attention, and nodded in response. "Why weren't you a couple?"

"What?" _Did she miss the whole part about Paul and Odette?_ I thought we were clear on the Vegas arrangement.

"The phone calls and the emails… the elaborate rescue missions… it all sounds very couple-y, so I'm just wondering why you…"

I exhaled deeply _. Because we never talked about it? Because we were both already involved with other people when we found each again? Who knows…_

"I asked him that night; if he was really going to marry Odette. It was the only time I'd ever really asked about them…"

" _And_?"

"He said it was part of the 'dynastic plan' or something…"

She was silent, a trait she was not often known for. I guess she was processing. I got up to go get my dress when she finally spoke and what she asked made me stop in my tracks.

"Do you love him?"

* * *

** I do not own any characters or content related to Gilmore Girls or any other entities mentioned. **


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